Just Like Moma Mitt.
Let me start this post by saying this: I don’t do politics. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and talks like a duck- it’s a fucking duck and no amount of “relating” while vying for US ownership will make me believe otherwise.
But people, lay off Mitt. You treat him as if he could possibly rule this country one day….oh, wait- this guy is running for President? Ahem. I digress now let’s proceed.
Lay….off…..Mitt? Hear me out.
Mitt Romney is just like you. And by you, I mean your family. He says the things your uncle mumbles into his bourbon, the quips your grandma says that she doesn’t realize is now racist because she can’t remember it’s 2012, the things your dad thinks on his walks through the mall with his 13 year old daughter.
Allow me to demonstrate.
I’m not familiar precisely with exactly what I said, but I stand by what I said. Whatever it was.
Whose 30 year old cousin hasn’t said this at the Thanksgiving dinner table when confronted with last years thanks about “The big tittied coffee chick that pumps me extra vanilla” followed by the wiggle of eyebrows towards his seven year old nephew. He was trashed but he’s confident from working as grocery store “stock man” at the local Piggly Wiggly, he stands by whatever it was that he could have maybe quite possibly said.
They don’t look like you made them. No, no. They came from the local 7/11 bakery, or whatever.
Over bearing, judgemental moms who will never fully accept their daughter’s lack of domestication- stand up! This quote goes out to you. When you’ve had a little too much wine and someone tells you to eat something, you saunter over to the dessert table (wine loosens your strict non carb intake, being 50 isn’t easy) and glare at your daughters plastic holiday plate but you’ll never be able to prove anything so you stick with not so subtle jabs about muffin tops and loud colors.
We use Ann sparingly right now so that people don’t get tired of her.
Oh, dad. Put down the whiskey. No, dad, give it- stop!- gi-DAD! seriously! give me the fucking bottle!
See everyone? ‘Ol Mitt is the harmless piece of mentally harming family that we all moved away from but are forced to see when the air gets cold. Cut him some slack, nod and smile and for all that is holy….Don’t vo-… I mean, cough, just…uh…you know, the whole free will….thing…..